That might sound like a sacrilegious harsh on their mellow, but having thrashed my way through so many crushing rush hours on SoCal freeways, I've become a bit jaded. And this attitude helps to resolve my emotional dissonance over relocating from the balmy climate there to the cold and blustery high Sierras of Northern Nevada.

Even so, upon returning for visits, as I did recently with my wife, Tina, for our anniversary celebration at a couple of tony Hyatt resorts, we find ourselves transfixed at times. As transplanted SoCal residents, we suffer from the same weakness as Lot's wife. Having fled Sodom and Gomorrah, we look back longingly, paralyzed by the vision of a pagan landscape chock-full of allurements.

That's the decadent core of this rambling story of what a Corvette enthusiast can expect and enjoy on a visit to SoCal. But before delving into those enticements and attractions, we should touch on a few practical aspects of getting around.

Comedian Johnny Carson once quipped, "If you stick to the speed limit in Southern California, you'd better have a ramp on your roof, because they'll drive right over you." Of course, Corvette enthusiasts rarely linger at leisurely velocities, so no big worry there.

In addition, keep in mind that SoCal drivers haven't figured out how to use turn signals yet (or maybe they employ some sort of automotive telepathy when changing lanes). They also have difficulty handling anything other than direct sunlight, so be advised when there's an occasional layer of moisture on the pavement. On the other hand, the sunny climate there makes it an ideal location for driving a convertible, Corvette or otherwise.

A greater challenge is finding uncongested roads for stompin' the loud pedal. But when you do, the expanses of smooth pavement are utterly compelling. The temptation of driving a Corvette in SoCal is like letting a binge drinker loose in a liquor barn--so many lanes, so little time.

While avoiding commuting time frames is just common sense, it's no guarantee that you won't encounter a snarled collection of cars on either midday or late-night drives due to a drive-by shooting (or a movie shoot). Which begs a question--why so many damn automobiles?

As famously--albeit apocryphally--depicted in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, at one time Los Angeles had a fairly efficient streetcar system. According to the movie plot and conspiracy theorists, however, it was eviscerated by General Motors, along with tire and oil business interests, in favor of buses and private conveyances. In reality, other factors of human frailty accounted for the demise of SoCal's mass-transit system, such as simple convenience and a proclivity for self-indulgence.

After all, who wouldn't prefer to man the wheel of a convertible Corvette on sunny Sunset Strip instead of schlepping along in a lumbering trolley? How can you ogle those budding starlets (insert your own euphemism here) from the splintering bench seat of a tram? Let alone impress them with your ostensible credentials as a movie producer?

So San Francisco can keep its quaint cable cars and efficient-yet-sterile BART trains. We'd rather be romping the throttle with gusto on the Ventura highway in the sunshine, headed for glory at several waypoints of special interest.

To wit, after picking up a canary-yellow C6 courtesy of Chevrolet at LAX (where you can also readily rent a Corvette if you're not driving your own into the area), we started our SoCal sojourn with a graphic contrast to the surrounding urban environment. In downtown Los Angeles, just east of the intersection of the 110 and 101 freeways, near Union Station, is Olvera Street. It's a short, shaded block of Mexican vendors, sort of like a minuscule sample of Tijuana, but without any little kids hawking Chiclets.

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Southern California Sojourn - SoCal Sojourn

10 Our Velocity Yellow C6 'vert hangs out at Long Beach, in the back bay.

1 For a taste of old-school Southern California kar kulture, and a Big Boy double-decker, stop by Toluca Lake on a cruise night. You might even spot Jay Leno rolling through in one of his latest rides.

2 Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles is a surprising enclave in the crowded city. This Mexican street market features colorful wares and tasty fare as well.

3 The Avila Adobe, site of the oldest existing house in Los Angeles (and perhaps the oldest tour guide as well), which depicts the

4 Roy French and his '58 restomod stole the show at the Studio Diner, located a bit farther south in San Diego. Look for a feature on his car in an upcoming issue.

5 Bob and Kim White, along with their two sons, rolled up in their collection of Corvettes for a shoot at the entrance to the Park Hyatt Aviara. Son Ryan is a front desk manager there, and made us Corvette folks feel very welcome.

6 The Petersen Automotive Museum features a world-class collection, including Bob Bondurant's Washburn Corvette. We're planning a fond look back at this famous race car in a later issue.

7 A welcome relief from the hustle and bustle of SoCal freeways is the Park Hyatt Aviara. A true California retreat, designed in the Spanish colonial style, it's lushly landscaped with palm trees and expansive gardens, and overlooks the Batiquitos Lagoon, one of California's pristine wetlands.

8 Surf's up at the Newport pier.

9 Tip Top Meats is just that, and then some, with hearty German deli dishes that are really delicious.

10 Our Velocity Yellow C6 'vert hangs out at Long Beach, in the back bay.

11 Tours of the Edelbrock museum and its collection of rare rods are available by appointment.

See the Sign What would a trip to LA be without a snap of the Hollywood logo, located near Gower and Franklin streets? It used to be spelled "Hollywoodland" for advertising a housing development. This iconic structure has suffered a string of tragic occurrences over the years. In 1932, Broadway actress Peg Entwistle jumped to her death from the letter "H." That same letter was destroyed in the early '40s, when the site's inebriated caretaker drove his '28 Ford Model A off a cliff. The sign deteriorated over the years, but shock-rocker Alice Cooper helped to restore it, donating a missing "O" in memory of Groucho Marx. Huge Hefner supplied a "Y." More recently, several severed body parts were discovered scattered nearby.